The Giant, Red Dragon
by mssunnymuffins
Summary: An adult Taiwan both appreciates and looks back on the happy life she once had with Japan, China, Korea, and Hong Kong. Its great until blood, tears, and the drums of war split the family in two. Featuring lots of ASIAN FAMILY FLUFF as well as some not-so-fluffy SAD faced CHINA and sprinkles and dashes of Russia x China (ROCHU). NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE!
1. Chapter 1 - Dragon Fruit

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone reading! This is my first upload so if I've done something wrong I apologize. This story is my experimentation with the war side of Hetalia, as the show itself makes everything seem comical, but I imagine it getting serious at times. So, get ready for some sad faced Asian family. This is probably **NOT historically accurate** , I really don't have much to go on regarding character personalities besides China and Japan (but I'll try), and while all the "ships" hinted at in this can be simply interpreted as family love or friendship, I suppose the series will feature China x Russia, Japan x Taiwan, and Taiwan x China. So let's jump right in.

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I stood silently, starring at a carving in China's wooden front door, and drumming my fingertips against the side of the delicacy wrapped box I was holding. Today was yet another one of China's birthdays, and I knew that on the other side of that door would be Japan, China, Hong Kong, and Korea. My family. This was the first time I would be seeing China since my independence war. I know I should've come sooner; should've tried to spend more time with him considering everything, but I just couldn't. I was just a little girl back then. I didn't know anything.

I recalled how sometimes I would make sure to wake up just before China. I would climb out of bed, sprint down the hall, and peek in the crack in the door. China kept a crack in the door ever since the time when he closed the door, Hong Kong slipped and hurt himself, and Japan was not tall enough to reach the door knob to ask China for help. I would peek in that said crack and wait for China to snap awake. He needed no alarm, every morning at 8:36am, his eyes would pop open and he would spring into action. I watched as he would sit up straight in bed, his waist length, black mane sticking up in all directions. He had the worst bed head. I would watch as he tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood up while yawning. He would walk into the bathroom and I would remain by his room door waiting for him to finish brushing his teeth and washing his face. Sometimes he would also shower. Once China stepped out of the bathroom he would slide his shirt over his head and toss it on the bed to later put it in with the laundry. He replaced the T-shirt he had been sleeping in with a wife beater undershirt and then pull up a set of black tights that hugged at his legs. China would then open up his tall, wooden wardrobe and pull out one of his prized possessions, his read mandarin jacket. I'd watch him guide his hands halfway through the oversized sleeves, and secure the front of it. My favorite part of watching China get ready was his hair. He had a large mirror atop a dresser to the left of his wardrobe, he would stand in front of it with a ponytail holder caught between his teeth and use both hands to gather up his long, luxurious hair into one fist. He would then slide the mass through the ponytail holder three times and pull it tight. Once his hair was up, China would walk over the the end of his room with it swishing on his lower back behind him, and slip on the black flats he kept underneath the bed, but I never got to see that part. I had to run back down the hall and slide into bed, for if I didn't, he would see me and it would be too late.

Too late to slide back into bed and wait as I heard the popping of oil downstairs and sniffed the delicious meal that awaited me. Too late to pretend to sleep as China would walk into the room and call us all to breakfast with his smooth voice. Too late to struggle into my tall, island chair next to Japan's and wait for China to serve our breakfast. Rice, fish, sausage, eggs, you name it and he made it. We could always tell who was going to get which plate based off of what chopsticks he set atop it. China's chopsticks where red with golden flames on them. Japan's were black with pink cherry blossoms on the end. Hong Kong preferred wooden chop sticks, Korea's were especially long, and mine where a pearly white with red ends and red flowers similar to the ones in my hair on the tips. We would all smile, and eat, and chat amongst ourselves as our chopsticks chinked on the plates.

"China," I would ask between bites,"What are we going to do today?" My older brother would cock his head to the side in thought and smiled once he remembered.

"Today, we go to the store."

"Can we get snacks?!" Korea had stood up on his chair and waited gleefully for a response.

"Three each. No big spending. Go get ready." And so the four of us tumbled down the hallway to our room where I grabbed my skirt and top and slid into the bathroom. Japan grabbed a small, blue kimono and walked into the closet. Hong Kong and Korea got dressed every day on either side of a small divider. Once one of us was ready we would call out a number.

"YI!"

"Ni."

"SE!"

and finally my own "Si" would end the count off telling us all it was safe to come out of our changing areas. We would all then race to China as he only had three places for holding - the piggy back which Korea and Hong Kong would argue over, Hong Kong usually winning, the left arm which was my spot, and the right arm where Japan preferred to be held beside me. The remaining child would either walk along side china or tie themselves around his leg as we all headed down the road to the supermarket. I suppose holding four children at once, though more or less, was a difficult task. My eldest brother was always strong for us and that is what I liked most about him. He seemed to accell above the rest of us and go out of his way for us, without appearing to be trying.

I remembered Japan and I always having non-verbal communication during these walks. We would simply exchange looks but ended up actually saying to one another something along the lines of:

"What are you going to get?"

"I'm not sure. Some pocky and other things I guess." He would raise an eyebrow at me and my smile would reply

"I really want a dragonfruit!" He would smile back and a shadow would over take the top of his face as he mocked me thinking

"All you do is copy China. His language, his style, you even wore your hair in a ponytail today. Now you're obsessed with dragons. I mean, DRAGONfruit. I WONDER WHY."

"I am not copying him. I just want a dragonfruit." China carried us all into the revolving doors. Korea would take off sprinting for the candy isle as China bent down to set the other three of us on the ground.

"You come back when I call, you hear?" We would nod and head off. Hong Kong, Japan and I preferred to stay together as our first item was always the same - we all wanted a bag of rice. Then we would split off to grab our other favorites. I found a package of tofu pudding in the fridge section and grabbed it. Following that I strolled over to the fruits section in search of my prize.

"So what if China likes Dragonfruits?" I would ask myself "Dragons are cool and I like them. China is cool too. So I like him." I noticed a collection of the red, spiked delicacies in a bin and started to shuffle through them for the biggest one. A whistle was sounded through the store - China's call for us, somehow he was already done shopping for the whole family - and I grabbed at the largest of the fruits I could see. I turned, I ran off, and after about three steps I was lurched back towards the bin of wonders. Turning, I could see my own long, black, imitation ponytail caught under a mountain of dragonfruit. I began to tug at it, lightly at first but the more I panicked the more force I put into it. I placed my rice, pudding, and dragonfruit on the ground to use both hands to haphazardly yank on my hair. Another whistle sounded, it was China's last call before he would head home without me. Tears began to well in my eyes and my tiny head was spinning as I desperately tore at my locks.

"China!" I called out to no one "don't leave me here!" My little six year old hands were not enough to set me free. "China! Help!" I heard my brother's infamous 'Ai-yah!' from across the store and continued to tug, hopeful that he'd noticed I was gone. For some reason, it never came to mind to me that I could just move the fruits out of the way. It was my smarter, older brother Japan who thought of this. He quickly walked down the isle and climbed up onto the ledge of the bin of fruits and started tossing them out of the way. I continued to yank until only one was covering my hair and I tore myself free. Japan helped me pick up my things and we raced back to China, who paid for my food, and kissed me on the forehead as he apologized for not noticing my absence sooner.

"You were gonna leave me!" I cried up at him. I noticed a change in China's expression at the time but didn't stop to see that I had hurt his feelings. That he was trying his best in sending everyone out and searching all over the store himself to find me. Japan was the only one that knew I'd wanted the dragonfruit so of course he'd discovered me but China would not have left. Of course six-year-old Taiwan was not bright enough to know this. Starring at me tearing up in his arms he began to fiddle with his ponytail, slowly forcing the holder down the length of his hair - a nervous habit of his - as he waited for a response to come to him. Once the ponytail holder was at the nape of his neck he replied simply.

"I wouldn't leave my sister behind." Sniffling I accepted his response. China walked to the back of the store and bought me another dragonfruit, cut it up as soon as we got home, and the five of us each had a couple pieces of it. He placed a hand on my head and shook me lightly, my now pulled down hair whipped around.

"I'm sorry," He said, biting into his fruit. I imagined China then as a giant, red dragon who was trying to figure out if there was actual dragon in dragon fruit and I began to laugh. My brothers, excluding Japan, laughed as well. China's smile seemed to brighten the room as it always did.

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And there you go? This was weird for me because I want it to be all about China but I want to show how Taiwan is kind of close with Japan as well. I did my best. **Next chapter on the way! :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - Fluff N' Stuff!

Wanted to do a nice, fluffy chapter. Included a very common China ship (that to be honest I don't understand) because I know so many people love it. You're welcome!  
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Japan glanced away from our checkers game with a furrowed brow for just long enough for me to move his piece back a row to where I needed it to be to make a double jump. When he didn't look back, I grew curious of what he was looking at and glanced over my shoulder. Nothing was unusual. The books sat on the bookshelf, the fruit sat in the fruit bowl, Korea and Hong Kong where having a playful battle with chop sticks, and China was hunched over a circular wooden table running his hand through his hair. He was his usual stress filled mess as he stared at piles of papers and packets his boss had given him. His ponytail holder by this point had been pulled all the way out of his hair and was now being tied into and pulled out of slip knots with his free hand. In a wave of dejection, China slammed his face down on the table, wild mane gliding down slowly behind him and he began to whisper curses at the inanimate objects before him. Without my noticing his movement, Japan had ended up next to China at the table and he tapped him on the knee.

"Do you need help?"

"No. I will be alright thank you."

"Are you sure? I really want to help. It would be good for my country to learn about money."

China smiled and used his foot to push out the chair across him at the table that Japan climbed into.

"If you insist. Making money is very easy. Keeping it is hard part."

Japan grabbed a stack of paper himself and began to read and sign for China. He would occasionally reach over the table pointing at some characters to ask what they meant or wanted and China would reply gleeful that his little assistant was trying so hard.

I walked closer to the two as they shuffled through the documents. On tip-toe I was able to see at the table that one read in bold letters at the top "BANK STATEMENT". China had outstanding debts for food, clothes, chop sticks, soap, water, and anything else we'd needed. Japan was much older than I was at this point - although he didn't look it - so he tended to help China sort through the papers when it became too much for the poor man alone. Hours droned by as the two read, highlighted, signed and reread the endless stack of documents until finally, China stapled the last packet of papers together and jumped up from the table excitedly.

"You know what?" He enthusiastically commented, grinning at Japan as his tiny hands attempted to grab a far too large pile of papers and shove them into a folder, "I think it's time for today's training sessions." The man bounced out of the room. Korea and Hong Kong placed their chopsticks on the counter and followed China excitedly out of the room. He was teaching all of us something that we each had chosen to specialize in. Korea and Hong Kong were learning combat from him, Japan had taken on both weapon making and sword fighting, and I was learning gymnastics. Back then, before his old age set in, the man would often walk on his hands or flip about the house being stopped only by the mass of hair that would slide into his face and block his vision. I had just mastered the hand stand with both my legs out and was now learning a back bend, a simple skill that China said was the 'root to all flips'. I longed to do a back handspring, as doing one looked quite cool when China was showing me. Unfortunately, we usually got to the gymnasium last. Our training sessions usually started with combat.

Japan and I stood next to our better trained brothers and progressed a line of poses with China. Bent down, leg kicking out, hand chops, and spin attacks were all in his regime. We kids would call out random wwho's and haa's as we shifted our bodies through the motions. Sweat began to collect on my brown when China decided it was time for one on on. Korea and Hong Kong, naturally, would take on friendly sparring matches only with each other. I was quite suited to fight China if he stood on his knees and didn't try very hard. I swung my punches and threw my kicks at my eldest brother who blocked and avoided all but a maneuver where I pretended to go one direction but went another. Thinking back on it he probably let me hit him on purpose, but I knew not my own strength, popped a vein in his neck, and caused an unpleasant red welt to form on the surface. China decided to Japan's pleasant surprise to skip his sparing match and we went outside into the shed. Land of the Sun Rise was in the middle of crafting himself a newer sword, which ended up being the one he kept even until today. Hong Kong had made himself a simple staff with a blade on the end. It was similar to China's but I'd barely call it the same weapon as it was bent in all the wrong directions. Korea was struggling with throwing knives but had made one with proper aerodynamic qualities to be able to thrust itself into the wall. I had created fans with blades on the end as a weapon I could keep up my sleeves. I don't see why a weapon can't be pretty - you know - before it's covered in blood. Naturally, I was especially fond of them because Japan had painted on sakura blossoms as a finishing touch. Perhaps the reason he was so good at weaponry where his delicate hands that could bend and push the bristles of a paintbrush, the lead of a pencil, or the heated, red metal of a blade into the perfect formation.

Finally, when it became my turn to enjoy training, we would head back inside and dress in a shirt with appropriately lengthed sleeves, flats like China's, and tights. Japan preferred to sit out on my training as he refused to comply with the "revealing" outfit, my two little brothers were still trying to get their splits down, but China and I expertly walked on our hands and balanced things on our feet as we did so. My personal records was four plates on the left foot and three on the right before they all fell and broke. China had made it to nine each. He'd always said if he ever needed quick money he would take our "act" out on the road. Continuing with back bend practice was hard that day as I had somehow fallen too quickly into it, not had my hands properly positioned, and bent onto my head instead of my palms. This caused an arch in my back that my flexibility level was not ready for, and once I screamed out in pain China decided we had had enough injuries for one day.

An hour of careful acupuncture later and I was lying on the ground exaggerating my pain. China fretted over me, fetching me cold towels for my head, heat pads for my back, water, food, anything I didn't need. He practically sprinted around the house in order to ensure Japan didn't just wander off, Hong Kong didn't dig into his bank statements, Korea didn't bust his skull open, and that I was not in pain. Of course I strived to make his job as difficult for him as physically possible, but he somehow still managed. For that day at least.

The next morning, I hadn't managed to wake up before sunrise. China liked to watch the sun rise on Fridays as he sipped tea. He also enjoyed the sun set as it reminded him of his flag. Disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see China put his hair up that morning, I stumbled outside to find him anyways, and on his usual perch outdoors was no one. He wasn't in the back yard, nor the kitchen, nor the shed, nor the training area, nor the bathroom. He was in his bedroom. He was still in bed at eleven in the morning, five hours after sunrise. My brothers, who by this time were searching for him with me, stood in the doorframe and stared at the eldest as he lie motionless in bed.

"China?" I made my way to the bedside and looked at him. His face was a bright red with beads of sweat on his brow. Korea climbed onto the bed and began to shake at his shoulder. China snapped awake, looked at me, looked at Korea, looked out his window at the already risen sun, and quickly realized he had overslept. He flipped off the blanket and stood quickly, then grabbed his head in pain and groggily walked over to the door. Without putting his hair up, or his tights on, or his jacket on, China began to fumble about the house trying to get a breakfast made. He over did the rice, undercooked the fish, and forgot to serve Hong Kong in the process.

"China, are you alright?" Japan inquired, looking at the mess of a meal on his plate. China simply nodded, tried to eat a scoop of rice, missed his mouth and instead plowed the chop sticks into his cheek.

"I can feel heat coming off you," Japan added. I leaned in closer to China and felt the same; an unbelievably high amount of heat radiating from his body. China had no response and this time got the chop sticks right in front of his mouth but didn't put the food in. He just lingered like that. My brother and I had one of our silent conversations.

"What are we going to do?" he asked by raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what's wrong with him. Is he drunk?"

"No, people don't stay drunk through the night I think"

"Then what is it?"

Japan looked up at China and did something a bit outlandish for him - touched his forehead. "I think he's sick."

"Well, we should get him some medicine!" Sunrise Land and I jumped out of our seats and scrapped them across the floor to two cabinets pulling out medicine bins and a first aid kit. China refused our offer and claimed he was just fine. He continued to fumble with his food till he knocked it off the island. Then, he stood up and tripped his way to the middle of the room where he looked around aimlessly.

"China. I thi-" My speech was cut off by the man falling to the ground. His hair offered a bit of cushion to his head, which hit first.

"CHINA!" Hong Kong dove to his side. We all crowded around him and stared. He breathed, thankfully, but was unconscious and had hit his head quite hard never the less. My focus was broken when I heard the squeak of the front door and saw Japan standing in the frame. His look told me not to worry, and that he would be back soon. He simply nodded at us, pulled a sweater on over his kimono despite it being perfectly sunny outside, and locked the door behind him.

China breathed, but it didn't feel like it was often enough. My three remaining brothers and I just stared at him in shock, and disbelief as his reddened face grew hotter and hotter.

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There's more to this story but I don't want this chapter/tale to be a million years long. I haven't published something in a while cause I've been sick so, we'll just call it quits here. I'll start writing the next part right away though! Hope you like it guys :) 


	3. Chapter 3 - Fluff on Puff!

I don't think Russia is older than Japan. SOOO, like I said, not historically accurate. I just figured since China needed help, pretty much the only person he's ever shipped with would be best to help him.

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Russia was his name. He was chubby, tall, endlessly tall, had a friendly face but creepy demeanor, was dressed for a blizzard, and knew exactly what to do. He bent down on one knee and slid his had under China's neck, the other arm under his legs. With apparently no effort at all, he lifted the physically smaller nation into a princess lift and began to carry him to a room Hong Kong led him to. I watched in awe as China's hair swished back and forth on the tall man's arm. I followed them, and stood in the doorframe watching my weakened older brother finally come to.

"Russia? What are you-"

The taller man shushed him. "You should be going to sleep now." His voice sounded nasal.

"But-"

"I can take care of the kids"

"No, I can. I have to." China tried to sit up but was led back down to his pillow by his friend.

"China, you should be sleeping now." China pouted and the two whispered back and forth for a few minutes before China used what strength he had left to roll over and allow the blanket to be lifted onto him. He melted into his pillow as Russia quietly shut the door to the room. Following this, he turned around and smiled at us.

"Let's get you all something to eat for dinner then." Dinner. I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. None of us had. Our focus all day was on what to do to save China, where Japan had gone, why China was so hot, how we could be of any use to him. Night had fallen now and we were exhausted. All of my brothers and I were weary eyed and empty.

"I will try to make something China would've made," the tall man commented, walking towards the kitchen area, "but I'm no expert." That not expert kept China in bed, kept a cool ice pack or wash cloth on his head ever hour, offered him medication and pain killers, fed all five of us, made sure everyone had had a bath, and saw to it that we were all happily in bed by 10 quite expertly.

The following morning, my brothers and I all woke at once. We all stumbled to our private corners and closets of the room to get dressed, and we all eased out into the hallway. Our nerves were finally calmed when we say our eldest brother in picture-perfect health preparing a breakfast and laughing with Russia. I still remember the soft smile he offered us as we sat at the island.

"Sorry to have made you worry," he said, sliding chopsticks across the counter to us, "but you all handled yourselves perfectly yesterday." He ruffled Japan's hair and the normally very private nation offered no objection to this. "Your big brother's very proud of you."

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 **This one is short but I won't post it till I write the next one.** In that one the real story starts to pick up cccc:


	4. Chapter 4 - Sparring Match

Japan woke up particularly flustered on this particularly particular day. I was in a half asleep state where I could hear and feel things but I dared not move or open my eyes. I heard heavy feet storm around the room as his voice made generally distraught sounds. I heard laughter from China, mild upset -ness from Japan, and when I decided to wake up officially, Japan was sitting in front of me wearing China's clothes. Also, Japan was double in size than he was when he went to sleep. He looked to be about fourteen and was messing with the fabric of the kimono he had worn just yesterday which wouldn't even come close to fitting him now. This was his reason for wearing China's old garments, or so I inferred. This was the day that China learned how countries aged - very abruptly and randomly.

When we all sat down at the island to eat that day, Japan's feet could actually touch the bar near the bottom of the chair. China had given him a full plate as opposed to the half full place that the rest of my brothers and I had gotten. His hands seemed to fit his chop sticks better, and his hair had grown in over his ears. Japan was barely himself anymore and he was very embarrassed by this fact. His reddened face tried to focus on the rice he was failing to get from his plate to his mouth. China giggled a bit and said he had a proposition.

"You always liked to make swords," he'd said, "but you were always too small and weak to use them." Japan had begun to understand and the redness of his cheeks intensified. "But now that you're bigger, maybe I can show you how to properly wield a weapon." Japan nodded in approval and began to shove his food down his throat. China continued to giggle as the poor boy rushed to finally battle with his swords.

Eventually Japan did finish eating, and now China was standing next to him showing him the best hand placement for the holding of a sword. China seemed to know everything anyone could ever ask him, and Japan had always seemed effortless and cool in his endeavors. My older brothers were the best.

Elegance and grace began to trump Japan's initial confusion and awkwardness and he wielded his Katana with confidence. A smile - or rather Japan's toned down version of a smile - had begun to curl up on his face. Slash, slice, and slash again at the bag of straw, slice and dice the planks of wood, the younger countries and I watched flabbergasted as our brother learned his newest trade. After about two hours of sword wielding, China called an end to the session. To my relief, Japan decided he wanted to stay behind.

I watched him grind new swords on the grinding stone, slash new bags of straw, invent new stances and styles, and grow as a swordsman as quickly as he could. Day by day China and Japan would train together. Day by day Japan would get a little bit better until China finally said,

"Japan, today we are going to spar." China grabbed a sword from a display on the wall as Japan stood wide eyed trying to process what had just been said.

"What?"

"Don't worry," China had the slyest smile on his face, "Neither one of us will get hurt. I really think you're ready for this." China stood tall and proud, sword pointed in front of him. Japan took on a similar stance and was overtaken by awkwardness.

China blocked his initial strange attacks and encouraged Sunrise Land to calm down. After a few minutes, however, Japan did calm down, his grace returned, and he and China had a poised and classy sparring match. China had won, of course, by getting Japan down on one knee and expertly knocking his sword away from him. China pointed a blade at his little brother's neck and grinned.

"Now you have to give up. I have won." Japan bowed in response and began to call China his sensei. He told me one night as he lied in his now full sized cot that he was waiting for the day when China would have to bow to him.

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This felt short (because it was by about 3-500 words...), but I got across the points I needed to. So there. If anyone is confused, look at the flashback old episodes of hetalia when England grows out his hair like France. Japan basically goes from being England sized to being France sized overnight. This is sort of like how America went from kid to adult as soon as England walked away, but plus a teen stage.


	5. Chapter 5 - Request at a War Front

Japan by this point had grown into a full adult. He no longer looked as much like China as he did when he was younger. His eyes seemed slimmer and weren't angled upwards quite like China's, he had also grown more pale. He'd sewn himself a new kimono, crafted a sheath for his sword, and was working on designing his flag. He told me he knew he wanted it to be a sun, but that he didn't know how to capture that.

Japan had also begun to butt heads with China. Don't get me wrong - the two were never arm in arm and disagreed on many things before Japan had begun aging. China attempted with everything he had to teach Japan Chinese, but every time a lesson would start, Japan would use his brush and ink to formulate symbols of his own, crafting longer words that flowed differently, more formally, than China's. He developed a slightly different way of sitting, different chop stick placement, a different clothing style, and different customs from China's. He even went against China and made himself a sword instead of a staff like the one the eldest was so proud of. However, this new Japan and China feud was seemingly trivial. The two would argue (well, China would argue. Japan would calmly claim he was right and proceed doing what he wanted) about what to eat, where to go, when to leave, how to get there, everything!

I recall perhaps their worst argument before things got completely out of hand was over a book they were reading in which a woman living in China married a man from India. The woman in the book admittedly did not love her husband, but was very proud of herself, feeling she had won by capturing even a foreigner's attention, and China was proud for her. Japan felt the woman should stay within and help expand her own race, as there were plenty of Chinese men for her to choose from and she did not even care for the Indian man. Their argument over the occurrences in this book went on for two hours, before China finally hopped up to cook dinner.

"FINE!" His screech shocked me from across the room. "If you have such a big problem, go write your own book!"

And that's exactly what Japan did. He had begun writing traditional picture scrolls. A few lines of Japanese text accompanied with a detailed, ink drawing were nothing like China's lengthy texts. Every difference in the two cultures stuck up, impaled China, stabbed Japan, and widened the gap between the two.

And when that gap grew too wide, things got out of hand.

It was June, an especially hot night. The five of us sat around the small, circular table now instead of at the island. Sometimes, at the table it felt as if China and Japan were playing mental battle ship, or sharpening imaginary blades to use on one another. The meal was silent out of sheer awkwardness as the two's spritual arsenals were being filled, and only the clink of glass chopstick to glass plate and the occasional slurp of some soup was heard. I looked up at the lover of sakura trees who was sitting next to me. He had paused his eating and was staring intently at his counterpart.

"Ja-" my speech as cut when he suddenly stood up, pushing his chair out behind him.

"China," he had said, in Chinese, "I have something to say." The eldest country raised an eyebrow and placed his Chopsticks near his plate. We had all understood each other's languages by now, so we had all swapped from speaking Chinese all the time to speaking Korean, Taiwanese, Japanese, or even Hong Kong's adaptation of Chinese. We spoke and responded in different languages but could understand each other, so it was more than strange to hear Japan revert back to old habits. China slowly glanced up at Japan.

"What?"

"You are the land where the sun sets, and I where the sun rises. Your country is inland, I am an island. Discrepancies between us seem trivial to other countries, but surely you can see them in the same bold print that I do." Japan spoke a bit timidly his next few lines - his loading of the cannons.

"I want to care for my country," he said. China had begun to squint at him. The cannon ball was cleaned with a cloth.

"I want it to be as great and powerful as yours, but not in the same ways." This time China lowered his head and a menacing shadow fell over his eyes. The ball was slid into the tube of the cannon. We all knew what was coming next but it stunned us all the same to hear it. The timid, fear had crept out of his voice and he spoke with clarity and up-most respect. A match was lit at the wick.

"I want to move out and become a sovereign nation." Light flashed, the cannon itself was slung backwards, and the cannonball flew at light speed straight for China. It hissed past all of us and seemed to be deafening - just those simple words had stunned us all to a quieter silence if such a thing exists. Now finished with his speech Japan bowed a full 90 degrees, nearly smashing his head into the table. The room fell completely dead, no loud, awkward shadow, no clicking, no slurping, not talking, just stillness. An air of tension thick enough to be sliced with a knife floated between the two oldest. I looked at Japan who was still bowing with eyes closed, to China who was doing everything in his power to hold in his rage, and then back to Japan who bowed a little lower now. I waited for the outburst to come. I waited in flabbergast-ion for China to dive over the table in full attack. The wait seemed endless until finally-

"No." China's response was short, and simple. He said it, picked up his chop sticks, and had continued eating as if nothing had happened. He cared not even to take the time to be enraged. Japan remained in bowing position for about three chopstick clinks before standing back up straight.

"Excuse me," he commented quietly in his own language before walking into one of the back rooms.

"He still needs to eat," China whined," Taiwan, take him the rest of his food". I carefully and shyly carried his plate down the hall till I was standing in his cooridoor. My eyes widened, and my jaw may have dropped as well - I do not remember. All I recall is feeling my chest burn, and my vision blur as I saw Japan. He stood across the room from me. Both of his hands were holding open a wardrobe. Inside the wardrobe was where he left his sword, so we were told not to go in there. His sword was not the only thing inside, as I had just discovered.

Japan noticed my shadow, spun around with a bit of a smile, and took the plate from me.

"Thank you little sister," he stated patting my head. I had no response for him as I was overtaken by completely paralyzing and horror. Inside Japan's wardrobe was a Katana blade, sharpened to perfection that was cozy inside a sheath, a flag design that was entirely ghost white with a bright, red circle right in the middle, and a white and golden satin suit. The suit was one I had only heard of the Japanese wearing when fighting with one another over who should be ruler. I hadn't even known my brother owned one of those monstrosities. I began to think to the back of my brain. China's was green, he wore bandages on his legs whenever he wore his suit, he also had clunky, brown boots. The uniform was still in his closet. Both my brothers had war uniforms at this moment. I swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump from my throat.

Poor little Taiwan had trouble sleeping that night, knowing the suit was just through the wall, being bathed in moonlight. I imagined it was ready to be splattered with either the blood of its enemies, or its beholder. Both ideas scared me to no end.

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Really excited to write the next part! Hope it comes out as cool as I see it in my head! Hope you guys are enjoying the read. Also, I've been asked why I don't much mention Korea and Japan's relationship. I figure if the companies behind Hetalia with all their money and ability couldn't fight Korea on whether or not Japan and Korea should be loving brothers, that I wouldn't bother offending anyone. I mostly just let Korea chat with everyone else and will keep him distant from Japan for the sake of the story. :)


	6. Chapter 6 - A Bedtime Story

Sorry for the wait on this, it's just, this chapter was SO. HARD. TO. WRITE. I still don't even think it's all that good. I just didn't know what direction to go in to explain China's backstory without it all just being forced and how to relate it to Taiwan's understanding. I don't know guys, I hope this is okay. Hopefully in the next chapter the war will start (it was supposed to here but my writing incapability got in the way of that). Hope you enjoy.

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I folded up the sides of the cardboard box and placed it atop the last one. The next box I grabbed was slightly bigger, but the same old cardboard with the same old contents. China had recently been teaching me how to make blades and my goal was to create a crescent shaped on. I had yet to succeed but the lumpy, slightly curved mess I'd pulled from my pocket sufficed in cutting the tape from the box. The broken seal revealed the stack of books, papers and scrolls inside the box, similar to the ones in the last two. I began shifting through the texts and was stopped by a familiar green book with a drawing of a little girl holding a blanket on the front. It was one of China's few bedtime stories for us. I pulled the book out and smiled, flipping through the pages and recalling my favorite pictures. I set the book behind me, atop an old, ragged copy of Xiao zhu de maoxian [the little pigs' adventure], and continued shuffling around in the box. I had one story in mind that I just had to find. Had to re-read. It was the story of the happy Xiongmao mama [mama panda]. China had read it to us the most of all his stories and he always had a bright smile on his face by the end. He loved that book just as much as we did. It must not have had pictures, as he never turned it around to show us, but I remembered the cover and the story very well.

Once in a small, quiet village there lived a happy, motherly panda. The panda, named Lei, was very sad at the time. She had lost her cubs and could not see well enough to find them. She knew that if she did the panda dance, they would reveal themselves to her. Lei found a small fox and asked if it was one of her babies. The fox told her yes and Lei played with and enjoyed the fox until one day, she tried the panda dance. The fox ran away, scared of the dance, and Lei was left alone. She then found a pig and asked it if it was one of her babies. The pig told her no, but she offered to be Lei's friend and helped Lei find a small brown bear that did claim to be her baby. Lei, the brown bear, and the pig played and ate and had fun together until Lei danced again. Both ran away in fear of the dance. Lei was left all alone again. She vowed never to play with anyone because she didn't want her friends to leave her or lie to her again. Lei spent many years alone and sad, but one day she found a panda cub that walked to her and opened her eyes. When she looked at the panda, it was doing the panda dance an invited her to join. Ad Lei started dancing, two other pandas emerged and joined in. Lei saw a bit of herself in the baby pandas and believed them when they said they was her babies. The three of them lived together and played together and Lei was happy once again.

A white book with a brush stroked title in the bottom of the box made my heart freeze. I carefully lifted the fragile paper-back out of the box, opened the cover, and flipped passed the first few pages. Then the next few pages. Once I was halfway through the book I went back to the start and fanned through it all to make sure. This book, this story I recalled so perfectly from my childhood China reading to us night after night, was completely blank. Every last page was a clean, white, empty sheet. I tossed the book carelessly to the side and continued to shuffle through the box, looking for the real copy of the story.

"I figured out where my brown haired friend has gone."

It was written in the same handwriting that was on the cover of Mama Panda. This little, red book was obviously a diary, and I suppose I should have put it down as stopped snooping, but I think now it is a good thing that I did not.

"His empire has fallen, which means he is gone, like the others. I wonder what happens to them when they-"

I flipped backwards a chunk of pages.

"He gave me his cape and smiled. In return, I let him wear my jacket. We both ran around, him flailing his sleeves, and myself glancing behind me as the red cape flapped in the wind. I wonder what this friend of mine's name is. I think I learned one of his words actually - sedersi - I think it means lie down. He told me to lay down and he did next to me and watched the clouds. I wish I could tell him-"

The book was snatched from my hands and China looked down on me with a sort of angry fear in his eyes.

"China, I-"

"What are you doing?" His hair was out of its usual low ponytail and instead was left out and wild. Waist long strands flew in every direction.

"I'm sorry! I just..." I looked over at the copy of Mama Panda, "I just thought that...I could... China sighed and sat down next to me. "I wanted to give Japan a reason to stay."

"You're not going to find one in here," he gestured to the boxes and scooted nearer to rest his back on a dresser.

"We used to love these stories, China. So I just had to find," my thoughts were in shambles and I was on the verge of tears, "I just had to..."

"You don't know what you were doing do you"? My silence answered for me. After a long pause, China began to laugh. The laugh sounded hearty and genuine, but his face had a sorrowful expression on it. My eyes glanced down at the red journal in his hand, and upon noticing China sighed again.

"I used to make friends with regular people. One girl, I met her when she was 15, I was friends with her and her son their entire lives. It totaled 164 years. They aged, I didn't. They changed, they matured, and I didn't. They died, and I didn't. So after they died, and after I'd gotten over them, I decided to only be friends with other countries."

"Why?" I inquired. China looked at me, with that sorrowful look and his eyes seemed to dim.

"It was hard," his eyes watered.  
"It was...so hard," this time he laughed at himself.  
"It was just too hard watching everyone go, and still being here by myself for so long. I couldn't keep doing it, but I guess I kind of did." China looked away from me and leaned his head back on the dresser behind us.

"So you made friends with countries instead?" I couldn't recall China having very many friends.

"I tried to, but really that was harder. We couldn't talk to each other if our languages were too different, which they almost always were, so most of our friendships were gestures and laughs. I had this friend, he was brunette, European, and he wore a red cape. He was always so interested in my clothes, and myself in his cape, so we would make each other presents. I'd craft shoes big enough for him, he'd make me a cape. I'd create a long sleeved coat which he seemed to love, and he added stars to the cape. That was our friendship. I guess it sounds silly but..." he trailed off into thought.

"It doesn't sound silly."

"Anyways, all my friends that were countries died. They were overthrown, over taken, renamed, dissolved, you name it, it happened. That was the craziest thing to me. Normal people knew when they would die. They'd get sick, they'd fall from a building, or be stabbed, but we countries can't do that. We get sick, we recover. We fall, and we might hurt ourselves, but we're fine. We don't die in the ways that they do. It's just one day...without warning...someone somewhere signs a paper with little to no regard for your well-being, and we go from here in perfect health, to gone. And that's it." China turned away from me and began to play with his hair, twisting and braiding its ends. I looked away from him, at the book on the ground, at all of its blank pages, and began to understand.

"So, you stopped talking to other countries, right?"

"How perceptive." China shifted his body back towards me and smiled.

"One day," he began, "a little boy walked out of a parting in bamboo and looked up at me. He bowed, and in perfect Chinese introduced himself to me as my opposite - the land where the sun rises. I knew immediately that he was a country, so I avoided him. I took him in because he begrudgingly spoke Chinese, but we didn't talk much at first. I think, Japan thinks, that I'm overbearing. Maybe I am, but..." China was quiet for a while, fiddling with the ends of his hair. He stood up and walked towards the door. Before leaving completely he stood in the door frame and looked back at me.

"I raised you four as warriors. To be strong. _All_ I wanted, was to make sure you couldn't be overthrown, like so many others before you," he looked at Japan s door down the hall, smiled, and said, "but I guess if you're that strong, you can't be tamed either."

And with that last note China, my papa panda, left the room. That was the last good talk I had had with him before the war began.

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Was that writing somewhat okay? I hope so. See ya'll in the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7 - Blood, Sweat, and Fury

This is so NOT historically accurate yet again guys. According to wiki, this war was not fought until the 1800's after the end of Japanese Isolation. In my world, America is not a thing yet. The way I think of it, China and the rest of Asia are so old that they all grow up and develop themselves before modern European countries are even a thing. I know it's not cannon in the manga, anime, or history, but that's the way I'm thinking about this, so, sorry.

Also, writing this chapter took me so flippin' dippin' long because I was afraid it would be bad. It came out kind of short but I hope I got the point across.

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I wasn't present for much of the war, but I did see the first and last blows. I had been following Japan around for about a week prior as he kept strolling to some vacant lot or forgotten alley in the town to meet and talk with a man he called Ito. One day, following what I presumed was a chat with Ito, Japan returned to our home in a scary state. His usual hint of a normal person's expression, or even expressionlessness were gone. His eyes were completely dead. Entirely empty. He walked past us all, through the kitchen, down the hall, and into his room without a word.

"What is his damage?" Korea asked, rolling his eyes.  
"He's been a little off lately," Hong Kong added. I heard the squeak of the floorboard outside Japan's room and assumed he had come out. I shoved one last dumpling into my mouth before sliding out of a tall chair at the kitchen island and hobbling towards the hallway. Just as I turned the corner I saw the last glimpse of Japan with the door closing behind him as he stepped outside. His usual navy robe was gone and replaced by a suit that covered him from head to toe in white. The sun glistened on a golden button and shown too bright for me to maintain my gaze.

"Oh, hello Japan." It was China's familiarly high voice, barely audible from the end of the hall.

"What are you doing with that?" Japan didn't bother to respond.

"Japan, that's dangerous!" I sprinted down the hallway all too slow and slid open the door to chaos. Japan had swung his katana towards China with a shocking expertize, and China had just barely ducked out of the way.

I screamed. Or rather it felt like I had. But I couldn't make myself make a sound. Or move. I couldn't call to the others. I couldn't try to stop them. All I could manage was to widen my eyes and watch. China slung himself back against a table which Japan yet again swung at with enough force to break it and send splinters flying.

"Dìdì!" China called out, sliding up the remainder of the table trying to regain his bearings. It'd meant brother. Another slice destroyed the rest of the table that China had jumped off of just in the nick of time.

"Japan!" Another stab.  
"Stop this!" Another jab.

I took a half a step forward with my eyes still full of fear. It was as far as I could go.

China bolted for the shed and grabbed a blade of his own with barely enough time to avoid Japan's lunge for him. There was a loud crash as brass and iron fell to the ground and the whip of wind as China dodged left and right from Japan's sword. Their blades met and Japan forced China to the ground in their struggle. A punch to the gut ended that battle as Japan stumbled backwards.

"Stop..." I had barely whispered it.

China began to swing now, wildly, at his little brother. There was a pain and fury in his eyes. Their blows had begun landing as each got more intense. A slash on China's face was met by a tear of Japan's jacket. Blood seeped through the fabric and to the surface but my brother's resilience kept him going. He struck back at China rapidly, leaving little cuts and marks all along his arms and one on his neck.

"W ish me?" Why?  
"Ni w ish me zu zh ge?" Why are you doing this?

Japan didn't answer. He let his Katana speak for him. They struck so hard at one another both went flying back. They sat on the ground a few feet from each other panting in exhaustion. Japan stood first and began to limp towards China. China tried as well to stand, but his legs trembled under his weight and failed him.

I heard a gasp behind me and spun around. Vietnam opened the left side of the door and ran out into the yard.

"NO!" She cried, throwing herself on top of China as his brother raised a sword above his head. Japan froze. Blood and sweat had mixed on his forehead, his breathing remained deep and heavy; he suddenly felt how weak he was from the gash in his chest.

"Vi..."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Vietnam cradled China and gunned Japan down with her words. The color seemed to return to his eyes. He slid his sword into its sheath which was conveniently at his hip. Japan turned away from the two of them and walked away. He left China's backyard in shambles. He left our family in shambles. He left me, stunned in that doorway, and completely in shambles.


	8. Chapter 8 - I Should've Been Asleep

In regards to **BTS-ARMY** : Of course Google Translate has failed me. It seems to fail everyone but I don't know anybody who speaks Chinese! Sorry man. And as for Russia, sure, why not?

In regards to **NewStarLight** : I did take your review into consideration a long time ago, but the reason there was such a big gap of time between chapter 5 and 6 was because I was trying to figure out how to incorporate it. Alas, I have found my way! It s subtle but it s in there! :D

More reviews welcome! Love reading them, and they are taken into consideration, so, yea.

Plus guys I THINK (think, like super maybe don't hold this to me omg these chapters are so hard to write) that I would like to start updating more often. WE'LL SEE OKAY!? Alright, on to your tale. It s a lil short but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

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I had learned at that time to tell the difference between my brothers' real and forced smiles. From flipping back and forth between their houses during the war I was subjected to both sides. Japan's forced smile was very big, vibrant, and borderline normal-looking. His real smile however, had a certain warmth to it that gave him life. It was subtle, often accompanied by a slight blush, and he only shows such a smile to select people.

China's smile, his real one at least, was becoming few and far between. It's original joy and bubbliness was replaced by a stiff imitation. Neither told me much about the war, but they had their lies. Whenever China went to "the market" without us, or whenever Japan had a late night "meeting with his bosses" I knew they were going to battle with one another. Every day when China came home from supposed market I could see nothing in his expression. His gaze had slowly lost all depth throughout the span of the war.

The day of the last battle of the war, I was with China. I had been standing quietly in his doorway watching him sharpen his blade. He sat on his bed, dressed from the waist down. He had a scar on his back, a stab or slash wound, that still had not healed. Everything on him had heeled within the day of injury except that. I wondered about it, and why it wouldn't fade away, until China turned and saw me. His hair shifted on his back to cover the scar, so I looked at his face. I'm still curious about what he was trying to do with it. Maybe show me curiosity based on the slight raise in his left brow. Perhaps he wanted me to think he thought it was funny that I was watching him based on the curl in his lip. But regardless, all that registered was sorrow in those deep, brown eyes.

"China, why do you have that scar? Are you okay? You know you do-you don t have to go again!"

"I don't want you to get hurt," was what I thought after that but didn't have the gall to say. What I should have realized, was that the moment Japan raised his katana, China was more hurt that he had ever been, or ever would ever be.

My brother took a deep breath and looked away from me. After a long pause, he recited a familiar line. "Amidst the sorrow in this limitless world, people fight for some reason." He held his staff tight in his right hand and stood. "However, no matter the wound, a day will come when it heals." **[1]**

With that he turned, finished dressing, and walked out the door past me. I looked at his back; his broad shoulders shielded by a gently flowing ponytail. He stood tall and strong, and in that time I believed him. I trusted that his back's scar was just stubborn, and that it would go way. I waited patiently for it to stop defiling his strong stance, and am still waiting till this day.

That night, China returned home very late, or rather very early. It was nearly 4am. I snapped awake on my post waiting for him on the couch. I suppose he didn't see me, or didn't realize I was up, as he immediately began talking to and only to Russia. He had been coming over more lately to check on China.

"Are you okay?" he asked. China paused, glancing down at the floor until his legs gave out below him. Russia hopped up off the couch but I recall being too tired to force my body to move. The ruddy faced stood in front of my brother collapsed on the ground. "China?!" China keeled in front of him, and leaned his head into his companion's thighs.

"It's over," he said in barely a whisper. His hands reached up, he hugged Russia by the legs as the much taller man stood looking down at him a little lost on what to do. They stayed there like that in a still silence. I took a moment to notice China. His clothes were torn and tattered, his head and wraps bloody. His hair was misshapen and choppy, most likely it had been stricken during battle. He had cuts and bruises all about his skin, and his shoulders were shaking. I figured at first from fatigue but China's quiet whimpers told me otherwise. Russia knelt down to meet China's height as my brother gasped in air before sobbing violently into the Russian's shoulder. The shorter haired man held the other in a big, gentle grip. I had never seen China cry before. Not a small bit of weeping, not this emotional over pour. He gasped again and his body shook as he tightened his grip on a jacket's brown fabric. China held his head way from that shoulder and towards the sky for just a moment. Just long enough for me to see him. His mouth, wide open begging for air as it just couldn't take all his body's exertion. His eyes sealed shut, two steady streams of tears flowing from them. His cheeks red, his hair messy, and his soul tired.

"It's over!" he repeated. Russia ran a hand through China's black mane and nodded.

"It's okay." He lifted China, who only held on tighter, and carried him to his room.

I wonder what edged China to cry like that. He was never very open with his emotions if they weren't happy ones. Was it the obvious betrayal from Japan? Could he have already known he would lose Korea and me immediately after that? Did his body ache? Had he been holding it in all the months they were fighting? He could have just trusted Russia that much, I m actually still not sure what the cause was. I'm also not sure if China stopped weeping or if I fell asleep first, but the sounds of his misery where the last things I heard that night.

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 **[1]** \- Lyric from Ai ya four thousand years - MY FAVORITE CHARACTER SONG YAY CHINA!

I just wanted to say something - THIS STORY IS SO HARD TO WRITE OMFG! I really struggled with the fight scene in the last chapter. I actually researched how to write a good fight scene. Then, I went back and re-read it. I know I never said this was historically accurate but I'm seeing myself throw in things like revolving doors, staplers, fully functional modern banks, and things like a lack of air conditioning and candle lights in the same era. Also, story inconsistencies. YIKES. Also then this chapter was just like why? WHY? I've changed a few plot devices out of fear that they would be corny or bad or whatever. I put a lot of thought into this. However, it may be grade school rubbish. I don't really know. I'm curious as to what you guys think is going right or what I could do better? Thanks. :/


	9. Chapter 9 - The Fine Line

Okay, so, I just re-read my last chapter. I feel now that it is in fact really. Really. Bad. I'm sorry for forcing you to suffer through that absolute trash-ket-ball. It was so bad in fact that I'm deleting it from the story! _**This chapter is considered a continuation from chapter 8. So read Chapter 8, and then read this. The old chapter nine is gone.**_ Never existed. Forget about it.

Sorry for lack of updates but, I was waiting for like...idk views or reviews or something? I just figured if I kept waiting someone would say something. I like seeing what you guys think, can recommend, or have to say about the story so don't be shy! Anyways I hope this chapter doesn't suck. Here we go...

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Following the war, I swapped back and forth between Japan and China's house. Every weekend I got, or well was forced, to leave Japan's humble house in the forest and got, or well was forced, to return to China's in a meadow. I'd walk my bags out of one house, watch the two brothers stare at one another, eyes narrowing, and waited for one of them to say something, anything, even an insult, but only silence instilled. They just glared.

I no longer snuck out of bed in the mornings to wait for China to get ready and have tea with him. The man still made an effort to get up early but that side of him was no longer what I wanted to see. What I longed for, was creeping down the hall each night. I recall holding my breath, begging the planks of wood lining the floor not to creak as I tiptoed my way towards my eldest brother's room. Each night I would sit by the doorway, back to the wall, and look out the window across from me. A rabbit was doing something or other on the moon - my brothers never could agree on what - and its dim light was the only thing shielding me from blackness. And so, I would stare up at the moon, possibly the stars or the milky clouds and just listen.

I never once dared to peer into the room, I told myself it was because I didn't want to get caught, but I knew even back then it was out of fear for what I might see. Not that what I heard wasn't sign enough.

I would hear the soft whimpers of a broken man, the light clasp of hands and mumbling of prayers. I would hear a sniffling nose or a deep, slow sigh of exasperation. I would hear restless feet pacing about the room or the swoosh of liquid in a glass bottle. I would hear distress, and unrest, and pain in my brother's throat.

I'd curl up in a ball, scared to move, and would cry. Even on nights I knew China didn't seem so bad I couldn't help but weep quietly into my knees. I wanted more than anything to burst through the door, envelop my brother in my arms, and make him feel better. I want to tell him it was okay and have him believe me. I begged myself to get up and inform him of all the nights Japan stood awkwardly by the phone, his hand reaching towards it every so often, wondering if China would accept his call. I wanted to fix everything, or to snap awake in my bed sweaty and screaming and realize that this whole situation was just a horribly realistic nightmare, and that my family was not broken.

But all I could do was cry.

One night, I encouraged Korea to wake up and quietly we snuck down the hall together and sat back to back near the wall. That night we heard the consistent crash of bottle after bottle smashing on the wall. Emptied bottles of alcohol from vodka, to whiskey, rum, and beer. Every couple of minutes, on shattered and its pieces joined its destroyed brethren on the ground.

"It takes a lot to get China drunk," Korea whispered towards me with a worry in his eye, "but that'll just about do it." He rubbed my arm, more for his own comfort than mine, and refused to ever come down the hall with me again. He said the sound of breaking glass was constantly reverberating in his head.

I thought that, that night would change something in the future I could already see on the horizon, but it did not. As one brother began to heal, and his nights of anguish growing more and more rare, the other grew. Once, while we stayed at Japan's, I overheard his and Korea's conversation.

"I do still miss him from time to time," Japan commented, a light blush dusting itself across his cheeks, "but I still feel like I did what was best for my people."

"You don't...think you betrayed our big brother?"

"I probably did betray China-san." I noticed he had begun adding honorifics to our brother's name, instead of simply calling him "China" or "brother". "But, it was what had to be done I suppose."

And shortly after that, Korea and China engaged in a war of their own. China didn't grieve for Korea as he did for Japan. I figured maybe it was because he was in denial, or I pondered for a while that he never even loved Korea much, but I think the truth is he expected it and was used to hurting by then. I noticed no change in him, day or night, alone or in public, until at about seven, a few days after the end of the war, China walked out of his room. He did the same things he always does, pulled out his wok, lit the stove, pulled out a ladle, started to prepare a soup for dinner, but there was a big difference.

"Gege," it was Hong Kong who spoke, "why did you cut your hair? I thought you liked it long." My elder brother's previous glory had been cut down from just grazing his back pockets when he wore pants, to the nape of the neck. It'd be impossible for him to wear a ponytail with it that short. He simply scratched it, turned, and smiled at us.

"Cutting your hair in China is like a new awakening," he explained, "you let go of the past and prepare yourself for the new." Following that China let his hair grow out again, this time only to his mid back, but he nearly cut it again when he lost Hong Kong. Unlike the other two, HoKo hadn't wanted to leave. He was simply dragged out one day by a man with emerald green eyes, blonde hair, a certain cockiness about him, and bold eyebrows. Hong Kong did come back eventually, but he was different. He had adopted that blonde man's ways, learned perfect English as the man instructed, come home with a new human name, Leon, and even called the man mum or big brother from time to time. He was still Chinese, but, it felt like he sometimes tried to slide his culture under a rug.

It pained me to see China loose so much. His land, his power, especially his family, but that guilt couldn't keep me from finally seeing what my brothers saw. I wanted to explore the world like Hong Kong, I wanted to see and try new things like everyone, I wanted to grow myself like Korea, I wanted to develop a national identity that was strong and different from China's as Japan's was. I don't know if China was hurt when I first relayed this to him, by yelling at him, mid fight, but he was certainly not surprised.

I still live with China, but I consider it unfortunate. I resent him, and I resent myself for resenting him. I still want my family back. I want to undo all of Japan and Korea's horrible war crimes, I want to take back crewel words, I want to reverse damage, and heal pain, but I want my people to be able to be on their own. Japan both explained my feelings to me, and confused me regarding them one calm evening when I asked him about this.

"You are a country," he said, "and in some ways that means we don't have our own free will. In some ways it means we have to struggle in order to give our governments or our people what they want. They want separation, they want independence, they want their own chances, they want it all, and because we are them, we want it all. Even if we don't."

"Even if we don't?"

He paused, his brown orbs pondering how to continue. "I want to apologize to the Koreas, and I have, but I haven't." I knew he was speaking of the war times he had had with him, and of the terrible state he had left my brother, well, now twin brothers, in. "I can feel sorry because I hurt my...because I hurt them, and as a person who knows and cares about them, I don't want to have done that. But I'm not sorry. I did what was best for my people, and my country, and essentially myself because I am a country who has a feeling of self-superiority and nationalism. We all do." He lowered his eyes to the wooden table between us and spoke in barely a whisper.

"It's hard to find and not cross the line between country and person. It's hard to try and do right as both. You have to pick which side of yourself you support, because most of the time, they won't agree with each other. So, maybe you as a person doesn't want to abandon your brother," I couldn't help but make note how he said _YOUR_ brother and not _OUR_ brother, "but you as a country can't resist. So, who, or what will you be?"

And in the end I chose country. China also chose country, I think, but occasionally I can see him forgetting that, and looking at me with the eyes of an elder brother who gave the world and then some to his loving little sister, only for her to go back on her promise and try to leave him.

China breaks my heart.

Every day I see him a little piece of it shatters off into oblivion.

But, I'm sure we've all broken his a million times over.

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YES! That chapter was SO MUCH BETTER than the trash I tried to pass off as a read on the last chapter. It's short but still good I think. I am so sorry that that took me so long to get out. If you want to know what I'm talking about, check out the last chapter of this story called "the lost chapter". It was a flipping disaster and I had to delete it from the story in order to move on. I feel like this way progresses so much better and gets across people's feelings and my head cannons in a much more logical way. I'm so happy I wrote this instead of doing summer reading like I was supposed to!

 **Please review!** I love reading what you guys think and they just make me all happy. :) Next chapter might be the last one just FYI.


	10. Chapter 10 - Our Promise

I don't want to write this chapter. Partially because I know it will be the last, so I will be done with my precious, little Asian family story after I write it, and of course, partially because I don't know what I'm doing. Hopefully we don't have another chapter nine situation. But just because I tend to never finish things (I have so many netflix serieses [multiple series?] going on with like 3 episodes left that I just REFUSE to watch till the next season comes out) doesn't mean I can leave you guys hangin' for the rest of time. So, here it goes. The end! *cries*

It was requested that I toss Russia into the mix here, but I just don't see him fitting in! I'm sorry!

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I stood silently, starring at a carving in China's wooden front door, and drumming my fingertips against the side of the delicately wrapped box I was holding. Today was yet another one of China's birthdays, and I knew that on the other side of that door would be Japan, China, Hong Kong, and Korea. My family. This was the first time I would be seeing China since my independence riots began to get bad. I know I should've come sooner; should've tried to spend more time with him considering everything, but I just couldn't.

"Happy Birthday, China," I whispered in practice to the door, "here you go!" My arms extended towards the door, giving 'China' his gift. I sighed and eyed the mahogany. _Just knock Tai. It will be fine!_ The bubbling in my stomach seemed not to agree with this statement. _Okay. On three. Just knock on three. Remember what Korea used to say, it just takes one second of courage to get something done. On three. One. Two..._

 _Two._

 _TWO._

 _THREE!_

 _..._

 _..._

 _FOUR!_

 _DANGIT TAIWAN!_ I sighed, shut my eyes, and forced a fist's knuckles to rap at the door twice. _Come on Taiwan, what was that? I don't even think they heard you with that wimpy kno-_

The door opened. Two smiles met my stunned expression; one of which being the bold, bright one of my older brother, Korea, the other of which being the odd, little face that mimics his in the tuft of unruly hair he had. He greeted me in his language and stepped to the side, gesturing with a big sweep of the arm for me to come in. Upon walking in, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. The gentle creak of the floor board right near the door, the crisp cold that would touch your feet as you peeled off your shoes foot by foot, the smell of steamed buns and beans, the warm, yellow light reflecting off of every wall, the paintings, the dragon etchings, and all the warmth of the home was still exactly as I remembered it to a 'T'. I found myself lingering around as a trudged down the hall, running a finger across a certain dent in the wall caused by a certain, little, stoic-faced boy's head banging into it.

"Are you coming or not?" Korea cocked his head to the side as he asked me, him having already ran to the end of the hall.

"Ah, yes." My reminiscence was cut short as I staggered down the seemingly endless hall, heart hammering in my head. The hallway at the end opened up into the fairly large living room, where my other brothers were sitting. The room itself was dripping in _feng shui_ and the light of sunset. The large windows had the blinds and curtains drawn and one to the far left was open letting in the sounds of birds settling down, crickets searching for mates, and water flowing in a goldfish pond near China's main garden. A large couch sat in the center of the room with two, yellow armchairs on either side of it and a table with plenty of seating space around it in the form of floored pillows and cushions sat in the middle. Korea ran over to a purple one of these said cushions and sat by Hong Kong, leaning into his shoulder as he scrolled rapidly through some screen or another on his phone. Japan sat off to the side of them, sipping tea and refraining from speaking. To my surprise, Vietnam was there too, and she was in the process of walking over to me, arms outstretched by the time I'd noticed.

"It has been a while!" I cried, pulling her tight into a hug.

"A while too long," she commented, a rare smile creeping across her otherwise serious face, and a hand rubbing my back. When she pulled away and smiled at me, I noticed who she had been seated on the couch next to. Thailand. He had been trying to coax a baby elephant from under the end table with a helping hand from Macau. How they had managed to convince China to allow the thing in his house was beyond me. And speaking of...

"Where's China?"

"Oh, he's in the kitchen," my elder cooed back, brushing a stray brown hair off her cheek. My fingers patted the side of the box and I felt the sensation of birds, bees, and butterflies wising around and past each other in my stomach,as if in a race to the surface. My face seemed to redden slightly and I couldn't help but toy with the ends of my hair with my free hand. It had been two or three years since I had seen China with anything even remotely pleasant to say to him, and I was not above admitting to myself that I either didn't want to or was too scared to see him. I found myself smiling never the less.

"I'll go and give him my present!" I gulped, and nearly choked on how dry my throat was.

"Actually," Vietnam gestured to the side of the room where a small collection of bags and boxes caught my eye, "he wants to wait till after we eat, so you can leave it over there." _Saved._

"You ought to greet him though." _Crap._

"Okay." Gingerly, I set my box atop another, this one also wrapped in red paper, and swiveled on my foot towards the archway leading to the kitchen. With the oil popping and pans sizzling, China may not have been able to hear us. He may not have known that I had arrived, and I presumed that that was the only reason I hadn't been thrown out yet. I knew exactly what would happen. I would walk into that kitchen, smile, and say hello. China would twirl around, see my face, and his own would twist into disgust and anger. 'How dare you come into my home?!' he would cry towards me, 'I mean, the gall of you teenagers!'. Then, before I'd even had a chance to speak or object, he would grab me by the collar, or perhaps by the hair, march me back though the house to the front door, and literally throw me out. He may even toss my gift back at me and scoff in my face as the door slammed.

The last thing I had said to China was that I hated him. It was true, in that moment I hated what he represented and every fiber, governmental liability, and emperor of his country for keeping mine from , I had never hated China _himself_. I'd never told him that, and the look on his face as I hollered at him was enough to assume he wasn't a mind reader and didn't know my true intent. Accepting my fate, I clinched my fists and slid over to the curved opening of our- China's - kitchen. Just as I remembered, the wooden planks changed direction on the floor from the two rooms, and the smell of what would be another delicious recipe to add to my brother's arsenal wafted towards me. I stood there and stared at him for a moment. China bounced about the stove with his back to me, from pot to pot, poking his chopsticks in and string this, flipping that, or checking those. The warm lighting of the room shown the brightest on him, giving the illusion of a golden halo around his red-silk covered frame. I listed to the pitter patter of his feet lightly tapping the ground and the sizzle of the pans before us. The room was hot, very hot in comparison to the others in the house. China tended to ignore proper exhaust when cooking, saying the AC sucks up all his flavor. At that thought, I laughed, almost loud enough to be heard. Almost. Amidst my panic that China had noticed me, he quelled my fear by beginning to hum.

 _I recognize that tune. I know this song._ Images of China carrying my exhausted frame back to bed as he sang that song flashed in my mind. Myself and my brothers snuggling up beneath the covers as our dearest sang to us in his beautiful, high, and elegant voice. _What where the lyrics? Oh the lyrics...?_ Just then China opened his mouth, restarting the melody, and began to sing softly to himself in a refined Chinese.

"Since the beginning of the heavens and earth,  
countless soldiers Spun history by overlapping their lives, aru.

On the banks of the Yangtze, there is a single caged dove.  
In front of the Great Wall, the sun rises again!

Selfishly, I think of the past, how nostalgic.  
How are you?  
"My body hurts all ove-" [1]

He spun around, as if to chop the onion resting on the cutting board, and in seeing me allowed his voice to die down. To say he was surprised was an understatement.

"Hello, _Gege_!" I said to him, bowing slightly and trying to force a smile. He gazed at me a moment longer, eyes wide, before his own smile formed. The stun his his deep, brown orbs faded and twisted into delight.

"What a surprise! Taiwan has come! Hello to you too!" _Was it sarcasm?_ He set down his ladle and waltzed around the island in the center of the kitchen, smile never faltering. _Must have been sarcasm. Here he comes right now to kick me out._ I averted my eyes and let my hands receded into the depths of my pink top. Two, gentle hands placed themselves on my shoulders and spun me around before giving me a curt push back out the doorway I came in.

"It's hot in here, just go sit with everyone till I'm done cooking!" And with that, China spun and skipped back to the island, picking up a cutting knife on his way. I must've looked like a deer caught in headlights because I certainly felt like one.

"You're not...mad?" He of course, didn't respond to my insignificant, unheard whisper and kept right on chopping. _How could he possibly not be angry with me, or saddened by me? After everything that's been going on. Everything I did. I wasn't even going to come tonight! I thought for sure that he would...That Japan, Korea and I wouldn't be welcome. Why isn't he-_ My attention was caught by a pale hand patting the ground next to him - it was Japan inviting me to sit. _Oh right, Japan is still here._ I raised an internal eyebrow as I began to walk over to him. _WHY is Japan still here? China and Japan hate each other. I could see Japan showing up to try and not be rude or whatever, but China should have long since told him off._ I took my rest on the ground and joined my siblings.

"Japan, what a surprise!"

"What is a surprise?" He had really tried to show genuine curiosity in his eyes but all I saw was blank.

"That you're here. Considering you and _Gege_ hate each other."

"China-san," _not Gege_ , "and I do not hate each other. I suppose can be a little irritating for him from time to time, and vice versa, but I only hate so many people."

"Wha-" before I could fully respond, Korea tapped my shoulder and made a ridiculous face at me. That face was met by a whack with a paddle Vietnam had conveniently brought with her for reinforcement. I found myself unable to avoid being trapped blissfully in a round of story telling, laughing, keeping Korea and Hong Kong from burning the place down, and laughing all over again. Time flew right by until China made his appearance. He came smiling out of the kitchen, a wok full of food balanced on his head and several others on his hands on arms before teetering over to us. He slid the dishes off his arms before removing the stir-fry from his head and skipping back into the kitchen for a fair share of plates, chopsticks, bowls, water, and alcohol. He served, we clapped, he prayed, and we ate.

The aromas of the dishes before me overwhelmed my senses. China was a master cook - just as good as France or Italy claimed to be and no one could take that from him. Even Japanese food could pale in comparison to China doing his absolute best. And this, as far as I was aware, was twelve steps beyond his best. The rice was perfectly springy, the meat was perfectly succulent, and the vegetables were perfectly crisp.

"China," I tried to politely force out while spooning mapo tofu [2] over my rice, "this is really, really delicious." Korea and Vietnam nodded in agreement, while Korea began screaming about how (somehow) China's cooking skills originated in Korea.

"Is it really?" he asked ignoring the loudest of his underlings. Even Hong Kong put away his eternal indifference to compliment the dumplings. China smiled, and his golden halo seemed to expand as his cheeks squished upwards. It was the kind of smile that you could feel in your toes, the kind that always - and I mean always - earned a room full of smiles back.

"Good, good," he commented, clasping his hands together and laughing adorably, "eat more then! I did not make food to throw it out the window!" We giggled at China's infamous line, the one he used to use on us when we just couldn't finish the last mound of food on out plates. The line that guilt-ed me into eating myself sick what felt like a million new years holidays ago and guilt-ed China into rubbing my back and holding my hair for me as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the trash can.

But eat we did. Every last bite. Korea even found himself fighting with _Japan_ of all people for the last steamed bun. I chuckled and whispered to Thailand that my bets were on Korea doing something dirty, like stabbing Japan with a chopstick, but Japan still winning the dumpling anyways. Much to Thailand's poor wallet's dismay, that is exactly how it happened, but with Korea throwing soy sauce in Japan's face instead of stabbing him.

" _Gao chenme gui?!_ " [3] China screeched out from across the room as his first found dripped in the brown liquid, munching on his prize.

"Korea did it," my older brother ever so... immaturely called, pointing at his competitor.

"DID NOT!"

"DID TOO!" It was Hong Kong who had yelled back.

"DID NOT"

"DID TOO!"

"NOT!"

"TOO!"

"NO"

"YES!"

"AIYAA, SHUT UP!" a red faced China glared them both down. His intimidation did not last long, however, as Macau- who I'm sure was only trying to be comforting- ended up in this debacle an unfortunate bi-standard, and patted China on the shoulder. Biggest mistake of the night. Apparently, that was just TOO close to China's 'beloved breasts' and Korea lost it, springing himself across the table, tackling Macau to the ground all the while yelling incohearant obscenities.

"NO ONE TOUCHES! THESE ARE MINE!" he cried, groping his eldest brother's chest.

"AND THESE TOO! MINE!" he had now slid across the floor and pinched at Japan's nipples. The generally calm, collected, and stoic nation actually squealed and seemed to teleport across the room.

"P-p-please refrain from t-touching me there!" his face, already lit bright as a candy apple, seemed to redden even MORE at that statement, "OR ANYWHERE!"

"Bollocks _Gege_ , you know you like it. All he needs is a schoolgirl uniform from your Tokyo Kinky magazine and you'd pounce," Hong Kong stated oh so matter-a-factly with his usual 'I-don't-give-a-crap' of a facial expression plastered on. Japan blushed deeper still, seeming to be lost in thought. _I'll have to get him to draw me a doujin of that later._

"HONG KONG! That is very inappropriate! Where do you get that mouth from little boy?" China wagged a finger at his youngest son who glanced up from his phone for only a second to say his 'mum' talked like that. "Why do _I_ have to suffer because England fails as parent?"

"He doesn't fail entirely. He told me once he'd tear my eyes out if I lit fire crackers in his house. Haven't done it since."

"Oh sure," China smirked, waving around a suddenly spawned bamboo stick, "threats are all peaches and cream! But wait till I actually beat your a-"

The banging of a wooden paddle on the table in the room silenced us all.

"China," Vietnam snapped through gritted teeth, "why don't you open some of your presents?". The bamboo dissipated as quickly as it came and China dove for the carefully wrapped and bagged pile in the corner. He gingerly tossed one in the air before catching it again. It was a small, wooden box painted green with a golden dragon on the top. China slid the top off and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, flipping it open to read.

"It's from Macau." The man blushed and pushed up his glasses as China glanced into the box and gasped. "Macau, I can't ta-"

"I won it all in one night. It's no big deal!"

"But I-"

"No buts. It's yours."

China smiled and tucked the note back into the box before closing it. He dared not tell us how much Macau had won, but judging from the size of the box and the fact that it looked stuffed, the casino had been nice to my brother. The next present opened came out of a grey bag.

"JAPAN!"

"And Vietnam-san"

"You two...this must have been so expensive!" China pulled out of the bag a small, authentic, hello kitty doll and a few strips of paper. He stared at the paper admiringly. "I can't believe there even _IS_ a Kitty themed amusement park. I wonder who I will take with me. Thank you so much!" He hugged them both, much to their mutual displeasure, and continued on with his pile. Present after present astonished him. Squeals were heard, hugs were distributed, and thanks were received. One particularly taxing squeal was the girlish one China released upon seeing the effects of Hong Kong's present - his knock off Hello Kitty doll.

"Now, Shinatty, roll over." The small cat doll stared at him for a moment before doing what it was told, sliding from it's belly to it's back and standing again. China clapped, tears in his eyes, and began to kick his feet excitedly. "Shinatty, go to China." Another lull as the doll looked at him, before it turned around and walked to it's owners' shaking hands. China snuggled it to his face and screamed in glee.

"How did you-"

"England placed a spell on it. It should last a day or two more." After screaming, rolling around, trying commands of his own, screaming and rolling some more when he got the doll to smile at him, and then hugging the life out of Hong Kong, China moved on to my present. My dainty, little, red wrapped box was the last thing to be opened coincidentally enough. He let Shinatty helped him. Slowly, bit by bit, the red rapping paper made its way from the box to the trash pile on the floor until all that remained were flaps of cardboard that simply needed to be flipped open. Upon doing so, and grinning towards me, China leaned forward and looked into the box. His face paled considerably as he released a small gasp. He raised a hand to his mouth as the other reached into the box carefully.

"I know it's nothing big. It's no dancing Shinatty, but I..." my voice lowered to a shamed whisper, "I thought you'd like it." My fingers suddenly became very interesting and I found myself not able to focus on anything but them twisting around each other in my lap. I squirmed a bit with my position on the floor and Japan placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. The silence was killing me, but China just continued to stare at my simple little gift before he _finally_ reacted. He flipped it open. The little album I had purchased with a glistening, golden dragon and the hand written phrase "For Papa-Panda" on the cover was finally open. He flipped a page, and another, one hand over his mouth the whole time as his eyes slowly softened. I noticed his cheeks push upwards under his hand,

"I do like it. I love it." He set the book on the table, allowing everyone to see, and flipped again to a page of Korea, covered from head to toe in flower as a small child. He was crying and Hong Kong was laughing at the camera. Another flip showed a new image of myself and Japan looking down at the photographer while perched up in a tree together. Another flip and this time a young Tibet was bowing to a young Vietnam. The album was all the photos of us I had managed to find and scour up. We leaned in, laughing at each other and blushing at embarrassing photos of ourselves in baths or struggling somehow. We aged as the book flipped on, showing a teen aged Japan brushing my hair, followed by a teen aged Korea waving triumphantly at the camera as his newest legitimate invention rested in his hand. By the time we reached the end of the book, China noticed the last page was blank and looked up at me curiously before, at my humble request, Japan whipped out a camera. It was one of the older ones that printed the photo as soon as you took it. He (somehow) slid it onto a selfie stick and held it out before us.

"Everyone smile."

 _Click._

The page rustled as Japan shook it, transforming it from black to beautiful, all before lifting the clear protective sheet and sticking it to the adhesive surface inside the album. The final page showed a picture of us all on China's birthday, huddled around our eldest brother squeezing him in tight and smiling to the edges of our faces. He stared at the picture grinning, blushing, tears welling in his big, brown eyes. One slipped down his face, initiating an 'awww' from myself and Thailand, and a hug from all of us. Even Japan ended up roped into it as China giggled and cried at the same time.

"China, what's wrong?" Shinatty had asked it once we pulled away as she looked at her owner with a confused wrinkle in her fur where a pair of eyebrows would normally go.

"Oh nothing," China wiped a tear away and struggled to speak through his laughter, "I just forgot about...this feeling...of us all being together." He looked up at his family through teary eyes and raised an over-sized sleeve to his mouth in embarrassment.

"Thank you for the gifts. For this whole day!" He sniffled, then chuckled again. "I loved it. I love you."

The room seemed to brighten at China's words. His reddened, puffy cheeks were enveloped in laughter as his halo widened. As if in a choir, we all cried back in unison, "We love you too, China."

The warm feeling that had snuggled up to my heart stayed there for the rest of the night and I couldn't stop smiling. Not while we helped clean up the dishes and presents' trash, not while China put one of his gifts on his head - cat ears - and watched Shinatty stare at his 'new form' in confusion. Not when everyone sat outside on the porch, talking quietly among-st themselves and watching the rabbit in the moon. I felt like it was holding an egg, but with my family around that was not the kind of fight you wanted to start. China and I had slipped inside to cut up some of our favorite - dragon-fruit - for the group.

"China," the warmth near my heart began to loose me, "do your really...like...care about us?" He set his large knife down and turned to face me.

"China, we all...with all these wars have..." he shushed me.

"And most of us haven't apologi-" A hand was pressed to my cheek as those bright eyes comforted mine.

"Taiwan, of course I do. You are my family," he cooed back in a soft tone.

"But...we..."

"...Do you... not want me to?"

"NO! I just...no...I don't get it." I didn't understand how China could possibly claim he loved us. As happy as it had made me to hear my brother utter those words to me for the first time in a long time, it felt like a lie. Our family had fallen apart, on so many countless occasions, in so many ways. Japan, as far as I was aware, didn't even consider himself apart of it any more. Hong Kong was basically the spawn of the English, I wanted more than anything to separate my government from China's, Korea was split in two with struggles of his and his brothers' own, and China was hurt. He must have been hurt. He must have held grudges. He talks about hating Japan all the time. He...must...hate us all then too. I rested my hand on top of his on my cheek and looked up trying to find the words to explain.

"I'm a 4700 year old man Taiwan."

"4701"

"Yes," he chuckled and rubbed his thumb on my face, "4701. I have seen so many people come and go in all my years. I've been hurt by so many of my friends in the past and in all my decades and centuries and eras of living, I've come to understand something." he removed his hand and glanced outside at his family leaning on one another. "War will get in our way. It leads us as countries to do hurtful, crazy things. And...yes, we're different now because of it. But...even if we're different countries, and our words our different, and our Kanji is different, and I'm in pain because of you...I...I want to always be with you all. I want to be able to look up at night and know you're looking at the same moon as me. I don't WANT to hate you. I can't. I don't, and I won't. I love my family and that will never change, Tai. No matter what, happens. You were all always there for me when I needed you - wither you realized it or not - and I have to...WANT to return the favor. I care too much for all of you not to." [4]

It was the genuine affection and joy on his face that told me he had meant what he said. The butterfly race in my belly confirmed that I'd meant what I had said too. I loved him, very much. I loved how strong he was, for me, for my siblings, for his people, but never just for himself. I loved how he always wanted to teach us something new and watch us grow. I loved how he was always around when we needed him regardless of the circumstance. I loved how he was quirky and weird about some things, but wise and elegant in his handling of others. I loved his shrill voice, his girlish stature, and his exaggerated Chinese persona. Sure, Taiwan hated China, but I loved my older brother - the first bit of family I had ever met or had. And he shared an affection and caring for me as well. The thought of that lit my heart's internal flame.

"Okay. No matter what." I held out the shortest finger on my hand, "promise." China interlocked his pinky with mine and grinned from ear to ear.

"Now then, these ones aren't going to serve themselves," he commented, gesturing to the fruit. "Help me out here." And so, my family sat out that night and ate dragon fruit. We had no similar blood, were barely tied together by linage, and had done too many damaging things to one another to count. The only thing that seemed to pull us together was the warm smile, deep, chocolaty eyes, and golden halo of our Giant, Red Dragon. I leaned to the left and placed my head on China's shoulder, taking another bite of my snack.

"Promise," I whispered, stifling a small laugh from him.

 _Promise._

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Don't you just love the feeling of writing something and constantly having to stop like, wow, this is not working. Yea, that was this chapter! Especially the...entire thing actually! I wanted it to be funny but also heartfelt. I wanted China to love his family, but I didn't want to imply a creepy incest ship here because I have been VERY CLEAR on making them family. I mean, I'm cool with incest ships in Hetalia specifically because, well, they're not really siblings (although it is still creepy being with someone who raised you and is 200+ years your elder...) but that was NOT the goal here. I hope...this came across okay. I don't know. Shoot me. Or don't, I kind of like being alive. As of right now, this is the end of my story. I've written over 20k words for it and am very proud of myself not only for finishing but for making it somewhat decent-ish in the process. **Thank you SO MUCH for reading this** whole, ridiculous, disaster of a tale. Thank you for follows, for reviews, for casual reads, and for getting all the way to the final chapter. I love you *blows kisses*. I hope this wasn't too corny or awful.

More Japan to come (he will be the focus of my next story, almost guaranteed). Bye guys! Thanks for joining me on this wild ride! :)

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 **Foot Notes**

 **1** \- LYRICS from Aiyaa 4000 years. That song is making more appearances than expected in this story, but it was basically what made me start to love the Asian family and want to write about it.  
 **2** \- I googled Chinese food and that was the first thing to come up that didn't look disgusting to me. I'm sure authentic (AKA not panda express) Chinese food is super delicious, but it looks just...odd compared to Americans' toned down version of everything.  
 **3** \- WHAT THE H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS ARE YOU DOING?!  
 **4** \- Sort of a Lyric grab from aiyaa 4000 years (they're out of order and a little different).

Also, IDK if anyone noticed, but the story started it's first and last chapters with (roughly, I had to make some changes once the story altered itself) the same paragraph. I'm just cool like that. Parallelism.


	11. THE LOST CHAPTER - Chapter 9 - Aftermath

_**This Chapter was originally Chapter 9 of the story. I disliked it so much and didn't know where to go after I wrote it that I essentially deleted it from the story. Since I assume you guys may still want to see what I had to say, here is the lost chapter...**_

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Okay guys, I'll be on a trip for a week, not that that makes a difference, my updates are sort of random. Figured I'd toss something out before I go tho. Been reading fics by **Amethystfairy1** and I lovelovelove her work. Especially work with Japan. Japan is my bae, spirit animal, and life force, just, by the way. So, naturally, I felt compelled to pen down more of this story. More family kindness, more sadfaced China, and more Japan on the way y'all!

This story is getting long! Idk if I mind but I never planned it to be this long. I'll try writing a little differently and see if that cuts it down, but, I'm not entirely sure how well this will go. *shrug*

 **To reviewers:** I read your reviews, they're just not really relevant to this chapter...? I'll bring you guys up if your ideas resurface but for now, just, thanks for reviewing! Everyone on fanfic seems to PM people after they review. I'm new here and didn't know that unspoken rule, but uh, I'll get on it from here on out! I wouldn't mind talking to you guys :)

Update...but like from as I was writing it not after posting: okay, literally stopped halfway through this and was like "this chapter. is NOT. WORKING." I really hope this doesn't all seem too...forced you guys. Maybe I was doing the most and it didn't work out but I tried.

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 _ **Chapter 9**_

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After the short war came to an end, Japan came to China's house one last time in a long time to collect his consolation prizes - myself and Korea. We packed our things quickly and somberly; I remember being scared that day. I feared Japan and China's tension - the way that they looked at each other while I waited in the hall for Korea to finish packing - it was as if one moving the wrong muscle would cause the other to strike. Again. When Korea finally rounded the corner, Japan bowed his head slightly, and China did the same, both never averting their hardened gazes. China smiled at Korea and me, however as we left. It wasn't until the last second, as I was squeaking the door shut behind me that I saw my brother's face fall and gloom behold his home.

Leaving with Japan and riding to his home was silent. He was a fairly quiet country as it was, but Japan said literally nothing to either one of us the entire ride. He simply kept his hands at ten and two and steered his car over the ocean going just over what China defined as "nation's speed". It had always allowed our eldest brother to go from continent to continent with ease, often running. Japan was the first one other than China, coincidentally enough, to develop his nation's speed. Korea sat in the car, arms crossed over his chest, sinking down into the seat, with a saggy frown enveloping his face. When we arrived, Japan grabbed our bags from the trunk for us and led us up a stone path. His house was small, yet spacious, made of wooden planks and delicate screens, had the sounds of chirping birds and buzzing crickets, and was surrounded by foliage, rocks, and other assets of nature. It was peaceful, simple, and secluded - just like him.

"Welcome to my home," he said with a small bow. I thought back to Hong Kong, who must've been having a quiet lunch with China at that point. I couldn't tell which of my elder brothers I wanted to be with - not that I'd had any choice. Japan gifted us out our own rooms across the hall from each other and Korea face planted onto his bed.

"What's wrong Gege?" I asked, standing in his doorway. I kicked his luggage aside with my foot and began across the somehow already messy floor towards him. He turned his head away from his pillow and towards me, but rolled his eyes instead of responding.

"Gege?"

"Oh please, Tai. As if you're not mad too."

"Why should I be?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Korea sat himself up on the bed and let his voice raise, presumably not concerned with wither [1] or not Japan heard him. "Maybe because our supposed 'brother' betrayed the family completely, left China scared and possibly hurt, basically kidnapped us, and is now bribing us with a big cushy house? I'm not stupid! He's just playing a bunch of stupid mind games with us now!"

"Korea, I don't think-"

"If you're defending him right now, then you seriously DON'T think." He held his pillow tight to his chest and flopped down onto the mattress facing the wall away from me. I balled my fist and starred at the ground, thinking back to the falling apart Chinese man I'd accidentally witnessed balling his eyes out less than 24 hours prior. How could I ignore China's pain: the scar on his back, the damage to his hair, the blood that soaked his clothes day by day? I felt maybe I was in denial, that I felt this wasn't all happening. I was sure any moment now I'd wake up, shaking and sweaty and rumble Japan awake as well. He would call China into our room and I'd explain my endless nightmare to the two of them. Both would envelop me into a warm hug and laugh at the thought of the family ever separating. We would then fall back asleep with blue, red, and pink fabric overlapping and intertwining about the bed.

But that never happened.

I just simply walked away from Korea's doorway and began to unpack my own bag. A shirt here, a skirt there, and a jewelry box for my flower pins and bladed fans. Suddenly, I'd reached the bottom of my suitcase and immediately panicked.

"JAPAN!" I was breathing heavily with a flushed face and a bruise on my shoulder after having slipped on a rug in my race down the hallway. One of my two dead faced brothers turned his brown orbs towards me.

"Yes?"

"I NEED TO GO BACK AND GET MOCHI!"

"Pochi is right here." Japan's fluffy dog crawled out from under the desk at which his master was working having heard mention of his name.

"MOCHI! MY MOCHI PLUSH! I NEED IT! I'VE NEVER SLEPT WITHOUT IT! CHINA AND HONG KONG WORKED REALLY HARD AND MADE IT FOR ME! IT'S A BIG, WHITE, ADORABLE BALL! IT HAS A HAPPY FACE ON IT. I LEFT IT AT CHINA'S BECAUSE I'M DUMB BUT INEEDITSOMUCHRIGHTNOW!" The last bit came out too quickly to be audible but Japan got the big picture.

"Can you get back on your own?"

"YES. PLEASE!?" He nodded slowly once, and before the second nod I was already out the door. Nation's speed wasn't exactly something I had, but I could still run fast enough to get over water. While Japan probably could have run back to China in forty or fifty minutes, it took me four hours to be back at my...old house. My feet and ankles were soaked with the pacific, and my breath was tight as my lungs where attacked by the crisp, night air. Skipping up the familiar path a smile couldn't help but spread across my face as I remembered that China was here. I'd get to see him! The door quietly slid open and I stepped inside, removing my flats onto a mat.

"Chiiinaa~" I whispered, amused, as I tip-toed in. The smile across my face fell and morphed into shock as I heard a loud shattering. Kneeling to the ground and hugging my- the- wall, I leaned my head around the corner. The source of the crash was the first thing I saw, green glass on the floor amongst brown and clear glass of similar style. With another noise, a white bottle clashed with the wall and the remains of it joined the pile of its shattered brethren. My eyes led me across the room to the source of this thrown bottle.

China sat, or rather slumped over, on his biggest couch. He had his head leaned back and eyes closed as a few drops of the obviously alcoholic substance inside his next victim was being chugged down harshly.

Crash.

Another bottle joined the pile for China to simply lean forward and grab another drink. The fragile little girl I was not ready to see what I saw. China bursting into tears after losing a war somehow made sense to me - it was like myself getting too upset after losing at mahjong and having to fight off water works - just more so. This sight, however, was more than I could handle. My invincible, eldest brother had black strands and wisps of hair falling randomly into his face. His cheeks were puffy, and under his eyes were both baggy and red. He seemed to have long ago run out of tears and barely bothered to look into any one direction. There was no anger or resentment in his face, just a painful, dreadful, lifeless remorse. Suddenly the door opened.

"China," it was Hong Kong's familiar voice, "I got the rice like you asked." I watched China's face immediately plaster on a fake, bright smile. He scooted up to be sitting properly in his chair and threw another bottle towards the wall as Hong Kong walked in past me, thankfully obeying my "stay quiet" hand signal.

"What's with the bottles?" he asked, setting two huge sacks of rice down on the floor to give his arms a rest.

"Trying to kill a fly!" had I not seen the mess of a man seconds earlier, I too would have believed China's lie as he flipped his hair out of his face.

"And how's that going for you?" Hong Kong and China let out small laughs before I turned the corner.

"Boys!" China looked at me stunned, and Hong Kong faked the same.

"What are you-"

"I just forgot something China, but figured I'd say hi," I explained, already tenderly throwing my arms around him. I prayed that he could feel more than just a greeting in that hug - but my support, and my hypothetical tears right there suffering with him. I squeezed a little tighter hoping to scare away the darkness that his heart was encased in. "I'll be right back." I sprinted upstairs and grabbed my mochi from her spot on my old bed. My old bed. I ran my hand across the sheet and heard footsteps behind me as I got lost in reminiscent feelings.

"China!"

He smiled at me, cocking his head slightly to the side letting his hair brush against his waist. A silence befell the room as his smile widened.

"I love you," he said, perhaps then realizing it was out of context and odd. Or maybe he assumed it was, but my response was almost instant.

"I love you too, Gege." He stood in the door way and watched me silently, curling a lock of black mane around his middle finger. "I..." it came out as barely a whisper, "I won't ever leave you like that." We both knew the 'that' I was referring to. China nodded slowly and began to walk away but not before I tackled him into another embrace.

"I'm sorry, China" I tugged lightly on the red and gold material covering his wounds. _I don't want you to hurt anymore. I don't want to see you cry, or drink, or be sad, or in pain. I can't protect you, but I'm here for you._ I'd said it all silently, but I'm sure China somehow heard me anyway. He finally hugged me back as tears pricked at my eyes and a lump built in my throat. A single drop rolled down my face and wet his jacket.

"Nothing here is your fault," he stated tenderly pulling away. How was it again that **he** ended up supporting **me** in **his** time of grief? He wiped at my cheek with his sleeve and planted a light kiss on my forehead as I sniffled and relished the gesture. "You should get back. Japan and Korea are probably worried."

"Korea loves you too!" I stammered out, "I'm sure he would've liked to come but-"

China shook his head. "It's alright. Tell him I love him more and hurry home." China's composure almost made me forget the pain he was in. I couldn't see it in him, but I could sense it if I really focused.

"Alright. I just want to say goodbye to HoKo first." The eldest nodded as I walked out the door and down the hall to the kitchen. I gestured for Hong Kong to follow me out to the front porch.

"Goodbye Hong Kong, I'm not sure how long Japan will keep us, and now that I have Mochi" I raised the white blob in my hand, "I doubt I'll find decent excuses to return." My only, little brother nodded and let his dead-faced eyes look up at mine. China always said Japan and Hong Kong where too quiet whereas Korea and I were too loud. I began to see the similarities in them only now.

"And...HoKo?" he hated that nickname but responded to it anyways.

"Yes, Mei?" I turned around and noticed what had caused him to swap to my human name, a group of three drunkards tumbling down the street. Not many humans knew who we countries actually where and our human names served as perfect aliases. We rarely used them in the house so I had to remind myself of what China's was before continuing.

"Watch over Yao. And I mean really watch him. In secret. Make him think you're gone; that you've left the house, and see what he does. Trust me."

"Does it...does it get bad? Like, does he..." his voice trailed off as he looked downwards.

"Just...keep me updated, Li." My brother blinked twice before nodding and offering me a side hug.

"Goodbye Mei. Good luck." I smiled and squeezed Mochi under my chin.

"I'll be fine with this little guy watching over me!" With that I turned and walked off. Four hours and I would be back in Japan s house. It was warm, it was inviting, and my brothers were there, but it was not my home. Not as long as China was still stuck sobbing in the back of my head.

* * *

Why didn't I think to use a double line section split before?

* * *

[1] - someone please tell me how to spell weather but like not in the sense of rain. In this context. I got it so wrong that spell check was like lol wat? I NEVER spell that word even close to right.

Okay. Just wanted to take a stabbing at China s grief, but also his strength. Originally it was going to be a lot of the series but, I think I don t want to do that just yet. Or maybe not at all? Still debating. But anyhowdy (God I say that a lot. Almost as much as "y'all"), hope you liked this. It was fairly long so maybe it ll hold y all off till my trip is over? See you then! Read some of the aforementioned fanfic-er s work in the meantime! Love, hugs, kisses, and please review. Byee!


	12. Not Story Content - Reply to a Review

In response to **Akya North:** I am totally cool with you doing that to the story, as long as you credit me, as you assured you would :). I'm not so sure how Chinese people actually feel about the Japanese (I know Koreans aren't the biggest fans...) so I just hope the story won't cause any hostility. But, if you think readers will be interested, please do! I'll post a link in my story of the Chinese version whenever you complete it, so let me know. ( **I would have just told you all this but you have PM's turned off so I couldn't reply to you.** )


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